


I have loved you since you were 18

by livinginaworldofnoise



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 18 is my favorite one direction song, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Harry Needs a Hug, Harry is sad, M/M, basically a mini timeline of my imagined larry relationship, ignore the abundance of factual inaccuracies i just kinda forged my own path sometimes, liam and niall try to help a little, louis is stupid, mainly just angst, they have no success, zayn is cancelled so he doesn't really feature in this srry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:44:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livinginaworldofnoise/pseuds/livinginaworldofnoise
Summary: "I have loved you since you were 18."Stupid, stupid words and Harry was careless with them.Stupid.[AKA: A mini timeline of Louis and Harry's relationship.]





	I have loved you since you were 18

**Author's Note:**

> hi love, thanks for reading! please note: 1) this is unedited so if there any mistakes let me know! 2) a lot of the events described in this may be inaccurately depicted so that's just me taking some artistic license 3) i am in no way claiming that this story is a true reflection of real events 4) not at all trying to delegitimize Louis and Eleanor's relationship! 
> 
> please enjoy! this has been sitting in my drafts forever and i had this inspiration at 2am to finally complete it xx

_I have loved you since you were 18._

Stupid, stupid words and Harry was careless with them.

_Stupid._

 

\---

 

“What is that?” And Ed’s grabbing Harry’s hand, turning it palm-up, revealing something scribbled there.

“Oh—nothing. Nothing,” Harry tells him, and it’s too quick to be true.

Ed reads the words aloud, and an invisible fist clenches over Harry’s heart. “ _Oh,_ ” Ed says, softly, with inexplicable clarity.

“No, no, it’s not _like_ that,” which is desperate and clearly a lie, but it sounds relatively believable when Harry adds, “It’s just song lyric I thought of. Didn’t have a piece of paper, so, uh, yeah.”

“Oh,” Ed says again, this time voice alight with the prospect of a new song to write. “Do you mind if I play with that a bit?”

 _Yes._ “Not at all.” It’s worth it, for the grin his friend shoots him and, he supposes later, the brilliant song that comes out of it.

 

\---

 

“ _I have loved you since we were eighteen, long before we both thought the same thing, to be loved and to be in love._ ”

Ed’s playing the song for the whole band, weeks later, and Harry feels like there’s a hand tightening around his throat. Zayn’s nodding along as Ed strums the guitar chords, Liam and Niall look delighted, and Louis is…not looking at Harry.

Harry’s looking at him, though. Harry’s always looking at him.

“What was your inspiration for that, then?” It’s Louis who asks, and Harry knows, without even meeting his eyes, that he _knows_. Of course he does.

Ed smiles good-naturedly. “Harry, actually, just thought of the lyric.”

“Right. Well, it’s brilliant,” Louis says, throwing him a smile, but his eyes don’t crinkle at the corners like normal and Harry’s stomach feels leaden with the knowledge that it’s not real.

_Stupid._

 

_\---_

 

“I thought we were okay.”

Harry stops, turns, and sees Louis leaning against the back door of the studio. The session is over, and Harry’s plan is, naturally, to head home and put his head in the freezer. Or, you know, take a nap. “I don’t—what?”

“The song, Haz,” Louis says softly.

Shit. “I didn’t, like, mean anything by it. It was just—just something I wrote down, and Ed saw it and I didn’t… It’s a good song,” he finishes lamely.

Louis runs a hand through his hair, scattering it from its style, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. Lou Teasdale would cry, probably, if she saw it right now. “Yeah. Okay. Are you okay?” It doesn’t even feel like a real question, and Harry’s quite sure he’s not supposed to give a real answer.

But he’s so, so tired. He’s spent the last four years _tired_. “Oh, definitely. Other than the fact I’ve been in love with you since you were eighteen.”

He leaves before he has the chance to see Louis’ reaction.

 

\---

 

2011, and Harry felt like he was on top of the world. One Direction was a real-life dream, his Twitter followers were lovely, and Louis was his best friend in the world.

_What Makes You Beautiful _hit number one on the UK Singles Chart, and Harry screamed.__

____

Louis was with him, and they were both laughing so hard, clinging to each other, trying not to cry because it was all so overwhelming. This was real; it was _happening._ He was so, so happy, and at the time, it made so, so much sense to lean forward and kiss Louis.

____

So he did.

____

And Louis kissed him back, he _did,_ and when Harry is looking back on that day fifty or sixty or seventy years from now, he’ll remember that and…Louis pushing him away.

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“I— _God_ , I’m so sorry,” Harry said, and he turned away and ran a hand through his hair, tried to figure out what possessed him to do something so stupid. He wrecked this, he wrecked _everything._

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He couldn’t turn around, didn’t see Louis’s face when he said, “What _was_ that? Harry, we _can’t_.”

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Harry didn’t know why not, really, but he nodded like he understood and left before he could ruin anything else.

____

That was also the year Louis started dating Eleanor.

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____

\---

____

 

____

“So, that was a good song Ed wrote,” Liam says, deceptively casual. Harry hums noncommittally, focused on locating a clean mug for his coffee. “How did you come up with that lyric?”

____

Apparently he isn’t going for subtle after all. Harry throws him a dirty look. “Don’t, Liam.”

____

“Harry, you never talk about it, it could…help.”

____

Harry can’t stop himself; he whirls around, bracing himself against the counter. “Help who? Me? Yeah, I’m sure I’ll feel so much better voicing all the shit that has built up in my mind for the last three years, sure that will make trying to move on so much fucking easier. Or maybe, really, it’ll help you, so you can finally know everything, and pat yourself on the back for being so understanding about it. Oh, and it’ll definitely help Louis, having everything he wants to erase circulating around the band. Fucking brilliant idea, Liam, really.” He’s breathing hard and he’s already regretting being a dick to Liam but he can’t help it because all he feels is rising frustration.

____

“I’m sorry,” Liam says quietly, but his tone speaks more of sorrow than regret. “I know it’s hard. You shouldn’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I just need you to know that even now, you _can_.”

____

Harry nods his assent. “I know that. I just can’t take you up on it.”

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Liam’s smile says he’s used to it.

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\---

____

 

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The problem is, these things are never so easily repressed. Which is potentially why Harry’s interviews grow increasingly more controversial.

____

He tells one interviewer, in early November, that being female is ‘not that important’ when it comes to his future partners.

____

He tells Niall, in another interview, not to knock sex with a guy until he tries it. It’s possible that one is in retaliation to the angry tweets on Louis’s Twitter the week before about being straight. It’s possible Louis is not terribly pleased with that.

____

It’s _very_ possible that his management isn’t either.

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____

\---

____

 

____

“ _We’re only getting older, baby, and I’ve been thinking about you lately_.” It’s late November, live at the AMAs, and somehow it’s not the camera Harry is looking at when he’s singing.

____

It’s not conscious, he doesn’t think. He was irrationally nervous for this performance, and the panic set on when he started his solo…so he looked in the only direction that would calm him.

____

At Louis.

____

Louis, for his part, spares him a flickering glance, but turns away like it’s too hard to keep looking.

____

_He_ looks at the camera.

____

The words Harry is singing, though, they make so much sense. How did he not realize this when the song was being written? It’s like a recap of his life at the moment. They’re getting older, and Harry is thinking about Louis, and the goddamn night in 2011 changed and it changed everything.

____

_Dammit._

____

It’s this whole album, Harry thinks, that’s throwing him off. _Take Me Home _and _Midnight Memories _didn’t leave him with the desire to walk into traffic because his favorite person in the world is apparently the only person in the world he can’t really talk to.____

_____ _

____

_____ _

Whatever. It’s fine. It’s fine, because the AMAs performance was fine, and Harry can be fine, too. Somehow.

_____ _

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Well, he’ll be fine when Louis is no longer available to serenade wearing all black and looking incredibly attractive. Yeah. That.

_____ _

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\---

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It’s Louis’s birthday, and he’s drunk. So, so drunk.

_____ _

____

_____ _

“Harry,” he slurs. “Harry. Haz. Hazza. I—” He stumbles, and Harry doesn’t catch the next word. “—you. You have to. Like. Help me. Please!” He throws an arm around Harry’s shoulder—Harry who, naturally, doesn’t make any move to stop him.

_____ _

____

_____ _

“Louis,” he says carefully, “why do you need help?”

_____ _

____

_____ _

There’s no delight in his drunkenness anymore. “I don’t—what am I doing? I don’t know what I’m doing. Everyone hates me. _You_ hate me.” He looks so crestfallen. “I don’t want—you. To hate me. Please.”

_____ _

____

_____ _

“Louis,” Harry breathes. “I don’t hate you. And I think it’s time for you to go home now.”

_____ _

____

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Louis doesn’t seem to agree. “I tried _so_ hard,” he continues, squeezing his eyes shut.

_____ _

____

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Which— What? “Louis,” he says, voice laced with patience, “tried what?”

_____ _

____

_____ _

“To not love you,” Louis replies, like it’s the simplest statement in the world. There’s no air in the room. Come to think of it, has there ever been air in this room? Harry doesn’t think so. “They told me—like, everyone told me that if I had Eleanor, I wouldn’t feel it, but I _do_.” Louis fingers clutch Harry’s thin t-shirt desperately, frantically.

_____ _

____

_____ _

Harry doesn’t know what to say, suddenly. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear from Louis, and yet it’s not, because Louis is hurting and Harry never wanted that. Louis loves Harry against his will, almost, and Harry never wanted that either. So he gently removes Louis’ fingers from his shirt, and says quietly, “It’s time to go home.”

_____ _

____

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If going home means they never speak of this again, Harry will live with that. He has to.

_____ _

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\---

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By the time Harry’s birthday rolls around—21!—Louis has managed over a month without ever once being alone in a room with Harry.

_____ _

____

_____ _

He knows, at some level, that it isn’t his own fault—Louis was drunk when he admitted those things, and once he was sober he would never confess to wanting Harry like that. Louis has always, always known where Harry stood, and it was always Louis who refused to act upon it. It’s the same as always, so why does it hurt so much more now?

_____ _

____

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Harry begins to think that he’s going to spend the rest of his life pining for someone who hates loving him. So he brings a date to his birthday outing.

_____ _

____

_____ _

Logically, Harry knows that he probably picked Nick Grimshaw for the pure and simple reason that Louis loathes almost everything about him. He wants to get a rise out of Louis, however terribly that will inevitably turn out for everyone involved.

_____ _

____

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Harry has learned to hate the angry, irrational impulse inside him, but not to ignore it.

_____ _

____

_____ _

So he brings Nick, and he and Louis play their usual game of ignoring one another (or, more accurately, Louis ignoring Harry while Harry mopes from afar). It lasts until sometime after midnight, when Harry has had enough drinks to want to _dance._

_____ _

____

_____ _

Harry’s mind is clouded by cocktails, and the one thing he can focus on is Louis, across the room. And when he begins to dance with Nick—perhaps a smidge too provocatively, who can say—he finally, finally has Louis’ attention.

_____ _

____

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And Louis looks _pissed_.

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____

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_What right does he have to be angry?_ Harry wonders. _This is all his fault._ Everything _is his fault._

_____ _

____

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Harry feels unfortunately, tragically more sober now. The room seems to be getting smaller, inch by inch, and he dreads the moment it suffocates him completely. He has to get _out._

_____ _

____

_____ _

“I need some air,” he says in Nick’s ear, with an apologetic smile.

_____ _

____

_____ _

He cuts through the crowd with urgency, finally reaching the blissfully empty balcony and sliding the door shut behind him. He leans over the railing and just breathes. He lets out a long breath he didn’t know he had been holding and tries to let the weight of everything roll off him. The lights of the city are calming, he decides. He can be calm. He can feel okay again.

_____ _

____

_____ _

Harry hears the door slide open behind him, and his breath hitches. He turns to see Louis standing there, looking determined and confused and, above all, fucking terrified.

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____

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“Did you bring Nick here because you knew it’d annoy me?” Louis blurts out, and _okay,_ apparently they’re going to get right to it.

_____ _

____

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“Yes,” Harry says, because he’s a little tipsy still, and he’s so unbelievably tired of playing games with Louis. Simplicity is a necessity right now.

_____ _

____

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“Okay,” Louis says.

_____ _

____

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Harry waits, but nothing more seems to be forthcoming. He opens his mouth to say—well, nothing specific. But something. Anything. He’s about to come up with something when Louis _launches_ himself forward and wraps his arms around Harry’s neck.

_____ _

____

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“If I don’t do this now, I’m never going to,” Louis says, and kisses him.

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____

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Harry thinks mildly that this is the most astonishingly wonderful thing to ever happen to him, before his mind just goes blank.

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\---

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The next morning, Harry wakes up in his bed, struggling to identify why his head feels like it’s going to detach itself from his body and leave.

_____ _

____

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Speaking of leaving, he can almost guarantee that until a moment ago someone was in his bed with him. He sits up, suddenly (a clear rookie mistake), and the sight of Louis pulling on a pair of jeans comes slowly into focus.

_____ _

____

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“Lou…wha-?” is all he manages.

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____

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Louis’ face is drawn. “Haz,” he says carefully. Harry feels distinctly more awake now. “I have to go.”

_____ _

____

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“I see,” Harry says. “Are we— I mean, are we fine?”

_____ _

____

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“I think it’d be best if we didn’t see each other for a while,” Louis says, as if he’s not delivering the worst news Harry has ever received.

_____ _

____

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“We have a world tour starting in a week,” Harry replies, trying to rein in the hurt that’s obviously dripping from every word he utters.

_____ _

____

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“Outside work, then,” Louis says, still blank-faced, as if this isn’t even _difficult for him_.

_____ _

____

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Well, fuck him. “Are you joking? After all this—” Harry gestures vaguely. “—you’re going to tell me to basically fuck off, like I’m some random one-night-stand you didn’t intend?”

_____ _

____

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“Harry—” Louis starts.

_____ _

____

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“No, you know what? I’ve put up with a lot of shit from you, Louis Tomlinson, but this is the one time I actually agree with you. If you don’t think we should _see each other_ , I definitely agree,” Harry says viciously. “I may be just an inconvenience for you, but I can’t believe I just let you treat me like rubbish.”

_____ _

____

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“Haz—” Louis tries again.

_____ _

____

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Harry rubs his eyes with enough force to regret it. “Please get out. I don’t want you here.”

_____ _

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He keeps his face in his hands until he hears his door click shut, eradicating that tiny remaining sliver of hope that Louis would argue with him, would tell him he regrets everything and wants to be with Harry forever.

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He takes several, futile deep breaths, checks his messages, ignores his messages, and then… He cries.

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\---

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When Louis tells the band that summer about the pregnancy, Harry tries to remain stoic even when Liam and Niall flick glances his way. He’s strong enough not to react, opting instead to meet Louis’ gaze with a cool look.

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____

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Liam and Niall are unfortunately unconvinced by what Harry thought was a pretty good performance (should he take up acting?) and he finds himself cornered by them when everyone else has left.

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“You alright, mate?” Niall asks.

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“Maybe you should ask Louis. He’s the one with a kid on the way,” Harry replies, trying to suppress all the bitterness bubbling up and studiously avoiding his friends’ concerned faces.

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“Harry, we just think it might help to talk about it—” Liam begins, and Harry knows he means well, but for the sake of his sanity, he needs Liam to _stop talking_.

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“Liam, if I thought anything would help, you two would be the first I’d come to,” he says, mostly to placate them but also because it’s true. “As it is, I’m just trying to get on with my life, and I need you to stop treating me like I’m going to break. I’ll be fine,” he adds, which is a lie. But if they knew that, it would only make it harder for them.

_____ _

____

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They look unhappy about it, but they agree, and Harry feels even worse.

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\---

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When the band breaks up—sorry, “goes on hiatus”—in 2016, Harry isn’t surprised. In his mind, it’s been inevitable for a while now. Pretty much since Zayn left, if he’s honest, but he can’t think of any of them, himself included, who hasn’t needed a break for a long time now.

_____ _

____

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It’s truthfully a huge relief. Harry feels like this break is an opportunity to breathe again. He’s excited to dabble in his own music, and he’s decided to have a go at acting, whatever that’ll entail.

_____ _

____

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The world feels full of possibilities again, in a way it hasn’t in years.

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____

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Being in One Direction has been the best, most frustrating, most rewarding, most difficult, most heartbreaking thing he’s ever done, but he needs it to end.

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____

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Louis and Harry haven’t had a conversation in something like a year, but that’s fine. That has to be fine. Louis is mostly out of his life now, and that’s fine too. It’s healthier that way.

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That’s what Harry tells himself, anyway.

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\---

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Being able to write new music is a relief. There’s so much that has gone unexpressed in the last few years of his career, and music—at least _this_ music—feels like a brand new outlet.

_____ _

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He has an absolute blast writing _Kiwi_ , but some songs are more difficult. Later, when he’s asked if _Sweet Creature_ is about Louis Tomlinson, he tries to be as vague as possible and pretend what he’s saying is an actual response. He’s an actor now, so he can do stuff like that.

_____ _

____

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He still keeps in touch with Liam and Niall, less than he’d like, with his busy schedule, but sufficiently nonetheless.

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In December 2016, he hears that Johannah Deakin is dead, and he cries. He can’t imagine anything more unfair happening to someone so lovely, and is Louis— Is he—?

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Harry calls him. Louis doesn’t pick up, which is expected, but Harry leaves him a voicemail that’s probably just five minutes of nonsense, but…maybe it helps. Maybe.

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\---

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On Harry’s 23rd birthday, Louis tags him in a Tweet, and Harry nearly throws his phone when he sees the notification. He thought Louis had lost the ability to surprise him.

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But no, this isn’t something he can care about. Not anymore. It’s not good for him.

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So he doesn’t reply.

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\---

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When _Back to You_ is released, Harry can’t listen to it. Rinse, repeat with _Just Like You._  He obsessively reads all the positive reviews about Louis’ music, but he’s scared that physically listening to the songs is going to induce a breakdown, and he doesn’t need that right now.

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Ed Sheeran calls him shortly after the release of _Miss You_. “Have you heard Louis’ new song?” Ed says without introduction.

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Harry frowns. “Hello to you too, Ed, and no. Haven’t…gotten around to it yet, as it were.”

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“I think it’s something you’re going to want to hear,” Ed says, and hangs up.

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Confused into action, Harry opens the song on Spotify and hovers over the play button for a few minutes before closing his eyes and just going for it.

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He starts crying approximately when he gets to the lines, “And we can’t even be on the phone now / And I can’t even be alone with you now / Oh, how shit changes / We were in love, now we’re strangers.”

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Part of him doesn’t even believe it’s about him, but the other, less rational part can’t stop crying. _Just Like You_ comes on shuffle after, and it makes Harry cry even more. The way Louis depicts his life, Harry just— Well. He can’t stop crying, is what it is.

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So he calls Niall. Niall might have answers. “Have you listened to _Miss You_?” he demands, entirely without preamble (which, shit. He’s inheriting Ed’s manners, it seems).

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“I did, mate,” Niall replies.

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“And?”

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“And...you want to know if Louis has said anything to me?” Niall guesses, remarkably gently for…well, Niall.

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Is Harry that transparent? Actually, yeah, that checks out. “I mean… _is_ there anything for you to…tell me?” He’s embarrassed by the way his voice breaks at the end, but there’s no turning back now.

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Niall sighs. “Harry, I think this is something you need to talk to Louis about—”

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Right, well, Niall is completely useless, Harry decides, and hangs up. (Oh God, he really is inheriting Ed’s manners, isn’t he? He’ll have to hold open a few extra doors for people today to make up for it.)

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Harry spends a long time mulling over the possibility of calling Louis, but in the end… He can’t. Louis has his son, and rumors have been circulating all year about him and Eleanor getting back together, and Harry has just put himself out there _too many times_ to do it again. Nothing will be different. He can’t tell himself it will be.

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\---

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On December 24th, 2017, Harry flies into Heathrow Airport. Gemma is picking him up, and he’s spending Christmas with her and her boyfriend while his mum and Robin take a well-deserved vacation in the south of France.

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When he gets off the plane, Gemma is nowhere to be seen. Harry isn’t particularly surprised by her lateness, but he’d rather leave the airport quickly, before anyone has a chance to notice him.

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He sees a sign with “Harry” scrawled across it, and the handwriting looks eerily familiar, but it’s not Gemma’s, and the person holding it— _definitely_ not Gemma—and oh God, is Harry hallucinating in a public airport? This cannot— _cannot_ be happening.

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Louis _fucking_ Tomlinson ducks under the barrier and rushes toward him and _fucking kisses him_ , like they’re not in an airport surrounded by possibly hundreds of people, and Harry can’t do anything but kiss him back.

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Harry has imagined this happening millions of different ways since his 21st birthday, but in his mind, it was never public. He expects the noise of the public reaction to overpower him, but the second Louis’ mouth presses against his, everything goes silent.

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He takes in the familiar scent of Louis and the warmth of his mouth, and for a second nothing else in the world matters except—

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“Louis, you know we’re in public, right?” Harry interrupts their kiss breathlessly. “Is this something you…I mean, are you sure this is what you want?”

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Louis looks a little perplexed for a moment before it clicks. “Ah, you didn’t see my interview today, because you were on the plane. For reference, I announced on national television that I’m gay and that Eleanor and I are just friends. Also, I weaseled your flight details out of Gemma. Please don’t be mad.”

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Harry finds it rather physically impossible to do anything other than stare at him. “I think—I think we have quite a bit to talk about. But maybe not here.”

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Louis laughs, and Harry almost melts from how much he missed hearing that sound. “You may have a point there. We should go somewhere and talk, and I can explain, and you can scream at me for being the stupidest fucking idiot slash coward to ever walk the planet, and I can grovel for your forgiveness, but first—can I hold your hand?”

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“Yes,” Harry says weakly, “I think maybe that’d be quite acceptable.”

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Harry’s been in love with Louis for eight years, and this is the first time he’s ever felt okay about it.

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_I have loved you since we were 18 / Long before we both thought the same thing / To be loved and to be in love / All I can do is say that these arms were made for holding you / I wanna love like you made me feel when we were 18._

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fin.

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End file.
